


Complicated

by lilynicole1313



Category: Criminal Minds, Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-06
Updated: 2014-07-09
Packaged: 2018-02-07 18:00:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1908528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilynicole1313/pseuds/lilynicole1313
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Henriksen finally gets the Winchesters in handcuffs, but due to shaky circumstantial evidence and little else, he calls in the BAU for assistance. However, one of their agents has a secret connection to Dean. Will this help or hurt their case? And, what about her budding career as one of the best profilers the BAU's seen in twenty years? Slightly AU. During season four.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: The Broken Hearts Club

Prologue

I sat at the end of the dirty bar, nursing a broken heart I should’ve seen coming. The whiskey bottle sat in front of me and I lifted the shot glass, relishing in the burn in left going down my throat. My cellphone was on, though, just in case I got called out on a case, although I seriously doubted Hotch would want to call me in right this second. I barely noticed someone sit down beside me until he spoke. “Strongest thing you got.” He was polite to the bartender, but I could tell he was hurting.

His short, brownish-blonde hair was spiky in the front, his stunning green eyes had a haunted look in them, and freckles dotted his face, more prominent across his nose and cheekbones. He was extremely attractive and could’ve gotten any girl in the bar with just a look. He noticed me staring and gave me a small smile. “Heartbreak?” He asked softly. His voice was deep, smooth as velvet.

"How’d you guess?” I said wryly, downing another shot.

“Only reason for a beautiful woman to be sitting at the bar, looking like she’d kill the next man who tried to pick her up.” He chuckled. “I’m Dean.”

“Stacey.” We shook hands and a small electric jolt ran up through my fingertips at his touch. “Same deal for you?”

“Of sorts.” He took the whiskey from the bartender. “Leave the bottle.” He requested, turning back to me. “So, he cheat?”

“He died.” I forwent the shot glass, drinking out of the bottle. “I couldn’t do a damn thing about it.”

“I’m sorry. How long ago?”

“Six months.” I answered automatically. “I sleep better drunk. No nightmares that way.” I then turned the conversation to him. “She leave you?”

“No. My brother did.” He took another swig of whiskey and I was impressed. He didn’t even wince. “He was the only family I had and now, he’s gone.” We talked until the bartender called last round. “Wanna get out of here?”

One night stands weren’t my style, but he was charming and there was something about him I was drawn to. “I thought you’d never ask.”

He grinned and drove us to his hotel room and then proceeded to give me the best sex I’d ever had.

I woke up, my head on his chest. “Morning, Stacey.”

“Morning.” I stretched, rolling out of bed and getting dressed.

“Breakfast first?” He grinned, grabbing his jeans.

I stared at him, trying to decide if he was a serial killer in the making. Finally, I nodded. “Sounds good.”

We drove to a doughnut shop and each got three chocolate covered doughnuts and a cup of coffee. “Thank you for last night.” He said suddenly.

“Um, for what? The free therapy or sex?”

“Both.” He grinned, looking at me and I swear my heart stopped. “But I’m thanking you for the therapy.” Then, he drove me back to the bar so I could pick up my car.

“I, uh, put my number in your phone. Just in case you’re ever in town again or need to talk.” I said, sliding out of the Impala.

“I’ll call you.” He said and I could tell that, while he’s told others the same thing, he meant it with me.

“See you around, Dean.” I watched him drive off in the opposite direction I was headed before I pointed my Mustang in the direction of my apartment complex.


	2. Henriksen's Request

Chapter One

It started out as a normal day for us at the BAU. There were files to read, reports to write, and conversations to have. “So, James, you find a man yet?” Prentiss teased, looking over at me.

“No, Prentiss, I haven’t.” I rolled my eyes and got back to work.

But, at lunch, we got a case that turned my normal day upside down. Agent Victor Henriksen, known around the BAU as Agent Sourpuss, stalked straight up to my Unit Chief’s office. Spencer Reid, my best friend at the BAU, and I shared an intrigued look. “Wonder what ole sourpuss wants.” Morgan commented, looking over at Prentiss.

“No idea.” She frowned. “Although, it could be about his case with the psychopath brothers.”

Spencer snorted. “He doesn’t have enough evidence to pin anything on them, plus they keep slipping away and the older one’s dead, right?”

“That’s what I heard. It burned his ass though.” Morgan added.

Suddenly, Hotch, Rossi, and Henriksen descended the stairs. “Conference room.” Hotch barked, looking quite disgruntled.

We all followed, taking our seats. “This is the team I’ve heard so much about?” Henriksen almost sneered, looking particularly at Reid and Garcia. “Well, we’ll see about that.”

Hotch leveled his deadly gaze on Henriksen. “The case, Agent.”

“FBI’s top two most wanted criminals are the case. I’m sure you’ve heard of them.” He tossed files in front of us. “I have them in the interrogation rooms A and B, but I’ll be out of the country for a week on a conference.” He frowned. “Therefore, I’m giving the case to you. Heard you guys were good, so start profiling. I want them still in handcuffs when I get back.”

“I’ll bet.” I muttered.

“What was that?” Henriksen slammed his hands down on the table in front of me.

I raised my head to meet his gaze, not flinching. “I said, I’ll bet you want them in handcuffs. It tends to be a turn on around here, you know?”

Hotch let out a rare smile, quickly stuffing it back wherever it came from when Henriksen turned away from me. “One week, Hotchner.” Then he stomped out.

“The Winchester brothers’ case.” Hotch stated. “Take a look at the file and then, we’ll begin.”

I opened the file and almost dropped it in surprise. The man I’d had a one night stand with three years ago stared up at me. We’d talked for a few months after that, but I stopped hearing from him. Various murder charges, credit card fraud, impersonation of federal officers, breaking and entering, arson, and even grave desecration were listed on his criminal record. I was utterly confused. As one of the best profilers in the Behavioral Analysis Unit, I should have noticed if he was acting like a serial killer, even after the whiskey I’d drank. Not once did I get a creepy vibe from him. “He obviously has something against women.” Morgan remarked, noting that almost all of his victims were female.

I shuddered at some of the pictures. We’ve seen some pretty gruesome things but these photographs were worse. And yet, in spite of the evidence pointing to Dean, I had a nagging suspicion he was innocent. “When are we going to talk to them?” I asked, closing the file so I didn’t have to look at the pictures.

“Soon.” Hotchner looked at Morgan. “You’re going to be the first to talk to Dean and James,” I looked at my boss at the sound of my last name, “you’re talking to Sam.”

Morgan and I got up and left. “Think you can handle it?” I teased. “Two alpha males in the same room.”

“I’ll break him.” Morgan said confidently, shoving me playfully.

“Just don’t literally break him. Henriksen might get mad if his plaything doesn’t work.” I joked to ease my nerves.

We stopped, looking in the first room. Dean was leaned back, feet on the table, singing ‘Sweet Child O’ Mine’ and playing air guitar to accompany himself. “Smug bastard.” Morgan frowned, walking in there with him.

Dean ignored him, choosing instead to finish the song before he paid any attention to my colleague. His stunning green eyes were sparkling and happy, unlike when I first met him. I moved away to see his brother, the one who was responsible for our meeting. Sam Winchester, with his long brown hair in his hazel eyes, was looking around nervously and biting his lip. He too was handsome and I could tell he had a good three inches on his brother if he stood up. I squared my shoulders and opened my door. His head whipped around to look at me. “Are you the lawyer?” He asked, his voice deep, rough from lack of sleep, but soft.

“No, I’m not.” I showed him my badge. “I’m Agent James from the BAU.”

“FBI’s behavioral analysis unit.” He mumbled. “You’re a profiler.”

I sat down across from him, my back to the two-way mirror. “You must be Sam.”

“Last time I checked, I was.”

I almost smiled at the sarcastic comment. It reminded me of Dean. “Valedictorian of your high school and a full ride to Stanford. I’m impressed, kid. Your parents must have been proud.”

“Not really.” He pushed his hair out of his eyes. “But you already knew that, didn’t you?”

“How’d you do so well in school with moving around so much?”

“It kept my mind off other things.” He said honestly.

“Like your dad’s poor parenting skills?”

“Yeah, especially that.”

I studied him. “Sam, you’re a smart kid. You were on the fast track to being a lawyer. And then, your girlfriend dies, you take a semester off to road trip cross-country with your older brother, and what? You forget to finish your education?”

“I’m not a kid. I’m twenty-five.”

“With an IQ of 160. That’s pretty damn smart. So, what happened?”

“Look, our dad went AWOL and I got caught up in the search for him. He wasn’t the best dad, but he was my family.” His stomach let out a loud growl.

I frowned. “How long have you been in here, Sam?”

“Twelve hours I think.” He answered, confused.

I pushed away from the table. “I’m gonna go see if I can get you something to eat.” Then, I left him, going to check on Morgan.

Dean was leaned forward, a deadly smirk on his face and Morgan was fuming. I let out a breath and prayed that Morgan didn’t lose his temper, going to hunt for some food for Sam. I brought back a turkey and cheddar sandwich and a bag of chips, along with a coffee all from the vending machine. “This work?” I sat the food down in front of him.

“Yeah, thanks.” He practically inhaled the food, taking longer with the drink. “I guess I was hungry.” He said, throwing his trash in the wastebasket behind me.

“Nice shot.” I smiled to put him at ease. “Sam, look, I’ll be honest with you. Henriksen can’t hold you. The most he can pin on you is minor stuff: grave desecration, breaking and entering, impersonation of law enforcement. With your cooperation, I can almost guarantee you no time in jail.”

His hazel eyes hardened. “I’m going to make some bullshit story up just to make Henriksen happy. Dean’s not a murderer; I’m not an accomplice. If that’s why you’re here, then leave.”

In his eyes, I could tell he was a hundred percent sure that his brother was innocent. I leaned back in the seat, not looking away from him. “I don’t want you to make Henriksen happy, Sam. I’m here for the truth, and honestly, it’d cheer me up to know that you two really are innocent and Henriksen was wrong. He pisses me off too.”

“The truth?” He chuckled. “The truth would have you passed out on the floor, Agent, or you’d send me to a mental hospital.”

I stood to my feet. “I’ll be back soon. And then, I want the truth, no matter how crazy you think it is.”


	3. Winchester, Profiled

Chapter Two

I went back to my team, surprised to see Morgan there. “Can’t crack him?” I asked.

“He’s a cocky, arrogant bastard who won’t talk about anything remotely close to the case.”

Hotch turned to me. “Did Sam say anything?”

I nodded. “After I fed the poor kid, he told me he’d tell me the truth.”

“Henriksen and his guys have been at these men for half a day. You’re with one for forty-five minutes and he’s willing to talk?” Rossi grinned. “I am impressed, kid.”

“He’s just a scared kid.” I loved Rossi’s praise, but I tried not to let it go to my head.

“Alright then.” Morgan face me. “You get Dean Winchester cracked and I’ll give you all the cash in my wallet.”

I crossed my arms. “Let me see.” He pulled his wallet out and I saw three one hundred dollar bills. “It’s a deal.”

Then, we went back and I paused outside the door, watching him. Dean was tapping out the beat to a song, although I couldn’t tell what it was. “Good luck.” Morgan smirked.

I opened the door and Dean’s head turned. “Well, hello there, darling.”

Obviously, he didn’t recognize me. I sat down in front of him. “Agent James, BAU. Hello, Dean.”

He quirked an eyebrow. “You look familiar.”

“So do you.” I smiled. “Although, it could be because your picture’s at the top of the FBI’s wanted list.”

“What can I say? Even when I don’t do anything, I’m still the best.” Dean’s green eyes never left my face. “You got a piece of paper I can doodle on while you run your mouth?”

I placed a pen and my legal pad in front of him. “Are you even trying to make us believe you’re innocent?”

“You guys read people for a living, right?” I nodded. “So do I. It’s my job to know when someone’s lying to me or not telling me everything, So, tell me, if you really believed I was a serial killer…” He pushed the legal pad to me and, in his untidy scrawl, I read, “…would you have slept with me, Stacey?”

“You’re right, but three years can change a man.” I handed it back to him. “Actually, if you hadn’t pissed off my partner, I wouldn’t be here.”

Dean grinned. “He was too easy.” Then, he leaned forward and his voice dropped in volume. “Do you think I’m guilty?”

“I think there’s something wrong with Henriksen’s file and I want to know what.”

It was unnerving being profiled by someone other than my team. “Okay.”

“What do you do for a living?”

“I help people.” He answered, and I knew he wasn’t lying. “Honestly, darling, our jobs aren’t that different.”

“Really? You track and profile serial killers?” When he didn't answer, I switched topics. “Did Morgan offer to get you some food?”

“Nope. He was too busy trying to intimidate me.”

“What do you want?”

He looked up in surprise. “Won’t you get in trouble?”

“I didn’t earlier when I fed your brother.” I gave him a small smile. “Give me a few minutes.”

I came back with another vending machine meal and cup of coffee. He took it gratefully, wolfing it down. “Thanks, Agent. You know, normally I hate people with real badges, but there’s something different about you.”

“Could it be that I’m not accusing you of anything and I just want you to tell me what’s going on?”

“That or the fact you’re the most beautiful woman in law enforcement I’ve ever seen.” I could tell that he wasn’t trying to use some cheesy pick-up line; he was stating what he believed to be true.

“Quite the flatterer, huh? If I ask you a question, will you be straight with me?”

“Wouldn’t dream of lying to a profiler, darling.” His easy grin was making my mind relive our one night together.

I shook my head and showed him a few of the less gruesome pictures. Dean’s lip curled and he closed his eyes, a single tear falling onto his cheek. “Did you kill these women?”

“No.”

He turned his whole body, trying to get away from those pictures, trying to suppress bad memories. I put them back in the folder, gently placing my hand on his shoulder. “Dean, are you okay?”

He looked at me and that haunted look was back, the same one he’d had when we first met. “Tell me something, Agent. Do you like seeing the pictures of the people you couldn’t save?”

I felt my jaw go slack, my mouth falling open. “I’ll be back.”

He nodded numbly, his eyes closing again. I rushed back to my team. “Hotch, they’re innocent.” I said quickly.

Morgan trailed in behind me. “She’s right. His reaction to the photos was all wrong. It was like it hurt him to see them like that. There’s no way he’s that good of an actor.”

“When I left, he asked me something.” I continued. “He asked me if we liked seeing pictures of the people we couldn’t save. I know how it looks, but over half the victims died before the Winchesters ever got into town.”

Hotch looked from me to Morgan. “Alright. But what about the ones that did?”

Prentiss and Spencer walked inside the conference room, her face paler than normal. “We need to get Dean’s side of what they do. I just heard Sam’s and it’s crazy as hell, but he’s telling the truth or what he believes to be the truth.”

Before Hotch even asked, I spoke up. “Look, for some reason, Dean trusts me. Let me talk to him.”

Hotch okayed my request and a few minutes later, I was back in front of him. “Can’t get enough of me, huh?” He said lightly, and I could tell he was trying to forget about those pictures.

“How can I?” I replied just as lightly. “Dean, I need to know what you and your brother do. Please. Right now, you’ve got almost everyone convinced of your innocence except my boss and Henriksen.”

“I get what you’re saying, Stacey. But whatever friendship we built over whiskey and sinfully good sex three years ago isn’t going to crumble because of my job.”

“If you don’t tell me everything, I can’t help you. Neither can my team. You want Henriksen off your ass? Start talking.” I crossed my arms, raising an eyebrow.

He eyed me for a few minutes; I could see the wheels turning and thoughts about how to get around this. Finally, he sighed. “My brother and I hunt monsters. Honest to god monsters. Vampires, werewolves, demons, and a lot more, some most people haven’t even heard of. Those murders Henriksen thinks I did, when my prints were found? It was a damn shapeshifter.” His voice was harder, rougher than I’d heard. “It sometimes takes weeks to figure out a pattern and then, to match it with whatever’s doing the killing? It sucks. I’ve died a couple times, Sam too. But what makes it worth it? The people we help and bring to closure to. Sometimes, that thought, the thought that someone out there is safe from whatever living nightmare it was because of me, is the only reason I push on, doing this. You understand that, don’t you?”

I swallowed. “Yeah, I do. And you were right. Our jobs are two sides of the same coin, but Dean? There’s monsters inside of people too.”

“I know that better than most.” He looked at me. “You actually believe this?”

“My job revolves around the ability to tell if a person’s lying to me. You weren’t.”


	4. Secrets Revealed

Chapter Three

“That’s the same thing Sam told me.” Emily said as I came out of Dean’s interrogation room. “Minus the part about whiskey and sex.” She paused. “Oh my god, was he the one-night-stand that turned into a friendship?”

“Yeah, until he quit texting me, but please don’t tell Hotch.”

“No problem.” When we got to the conference room, Emily spoke. “Same story, but not word for word. Sam was bitter about the whole thing, though.”

Hotch motioned for us to sit down. “Henriksen’s spent a good three years on this case and we ripped it apart in less than twenty-four hours. If I release them, which I’m leaning toward, they’re going to have to stay in town in case something comes up and Henriksen finds actual evidence against them.”

“They can stay with me.” I spoke up. “Look, Hotch, you have Emily and Jack at your house, and Rossi, I doubt Strauss would want two men under suspicion in your house. If anything bad happens, I’ll call you or shoot them.”

“Alright.” Hotch finally agreed. “The rest of us are going to stay here and see if we come up with anything before I call Henriksen.” He handed Morgan and I a key to the handcuffs and a car key. “Morgan, you go with her to her car as a precaution.”

I slung my messenger bag over my shoulders and went to unlock Dean’s cuffs. “I’m getting out of here?” He asked in confusion.

“Yeah. Agent Hotchner put me in charge of you and your brother. Let’s go.” Sam met us in the hallway. “Morgan, don’t worry. I’ll call you if I need anything.”

It was a short, eerily silent ten minute drive to my house with Dean’s Impala following behind. When I parked my Mustang in the garage, three doors slammed shut at the same time. “So, we have to stay here for how long?” Sam asked, looking around.

“Until Hotch figures out how to tell Henriksen he wasted three years.” I answered, unlocking the door and letting my guests inside. “There’s a guest room with a queen and attached bathroom down the hall and there’s the living room.”

“I’ll take the living room.” Dean said, throwing his bag on my couch. I moved to the kitchen and began to make spaghetti. “Darling, where’s your bathroom? Sammy’s taking a shower and I’d like one too.”

“Down the other end of the hall in my room.” I said, adding my own spices to the sauce.

A few minutes later, the smell of simmering sauce brought Sam into the kitchen. “That smells amazing.”

Dean followed soon after, having conveniently forgot his shirt. I swallowed, looking away from his toned chest. “Need any help?”

“You can set the table.”

He didn’t ask where my plates or anything was, he just started opening cabinets until he found them. Ten minutes later, the angel hair pasta was perfectly al dente and I drained the water out before carrying the pot to the table. Sam grabbed the sauce for me, setting it beside the spaghetti. I grabbed a cold bottle of red wine out of my fridge and three wine glasses, sitting down at the head of my small dining table. “Why did your boss put you in charge of us?” Sam asked curiously. “I mean, you’re not much of a threat if Dean and I were actually psychopaths.”

“I offered my house, since the only money you guys seem to have is fake credit cards and because we can tell you’re not psychopaths. It’s what we get paid to do.” I poured the wine into the glasses, passing them to the brothers. “Anyways, it’s a little nicer than those crack hotels you guys have stayed in, right?”

“Damn straight.” Dean took a bite of the spaghetti and practically moaned. “Oh god, you, Stacey, are a woman of many talents. Can I keep you?”

I began eating, as I didn’t trust myself to respond to that. “You two know each other, don’t you?” Sam laughed as Dean choked on his wine. “That’s the only reason you’d trust a fed.”

“In my defense, I didn’t know she was a fed when we met.” Dean coughed.

“How did…you slept with her, didn’t you?”

I nodded. “We met at a local bar.”

Sam sat back, shaking his head in disbelief. “I can’t believe your boss let you stay on the case.”

“He doesn’t know.” I stated, a hint of warning in my voice, as I placed my plate in the dishwasher. “Speaking of that night, you wanna tell me why you quit texting me?”

“I was in Hell. Cell phone signal sucks down there.” He said lightly, but there was something darker in his voice.

“Makes sense.” I replied. “I doubt the devil needs a cell phone to communicate with his demon minions.”

Dean laughed. “I’m sorry. I had to get a new phone and lost your number.”

“It’s fine.” We settled down on the couch, watching Star Wars. It was around ten that night when Sam went to sleep. I stood to my feet a few minutes afterward, stretching. “See you in the morning, Dean.”

He grabbed my arm, spinning me around to face him. “Thank you for everything.” Then his lips brushed against mine and my arms immediately wound around his neck, pulling him closer to me.

When I finally pulled away, in order to breathe, his bright green eyes were dark with lust, and I knew mine were too. “Dean, look, we can’t. Not right now.” I regretted the words coming out, but it was too much of a risk to my job.

He sighed. “Yeah, I know.”

“Rain check?” I asked, taking a blanket and pillow out of my linen closet and handing them to him.

“Sure thing, darling.” He kissed my cheek. “See you in the morning.”

As I turned back toward the living room to turn the light off, I saw him slip a knife under the pillow. I should’ve been scared, but instead, I felt protected. The light went out and I proceeded to my bedroom, placing my revolver under my pillow like always before going to sleep.

When I woke on Tuesday, it was to the smell of bacon. I yawned. Spencer’s coffee habit was becoming mine as well, as I was hardly functional in the morning without my coffee, although mine was spiked with vanilla rum. Dean was making breakfast and I fixed my coffee, adding a shot of rum before I downed it, waking up slowly. “Bacon?” Sam’s sleepy voice made me smile.

“Bacon, brother. We have bacon.” Dean grinned, dishing out scrambled eggs and a couple slices of bacon on a plate, and handed it to me.

I wolfed down my breakfast and went back to my room to dress. I pulled on a pair of gray tweed slacks, a scarlet button-up silk blouse, and my favorite black flats. Then, I French-braided my long, chocolate brown hair, framed my steel blue eyes with mascara, and slung my messenger bag over my shoulder. “See you two later. Need anything, Dean, my number’s on the fridge, and please, stay out of trouble.” All I got in response was Dean’s snarky grin and Sam’s thumbs up, as he was eating.

When I walked over to my desk and placed my bag on the floor, Reid glanced up. “Hotch needs to see you. He’s in Garcia’s lair.”

I frowned and Reid laughed as I walked into the tech room. “Reid said you needed me?”

“I asked Garcia to track Dean’s known credit cards and something interesting appeared. Three years ago, he was at the bar outside of town, O’Malley’s Pool Hall. Coincidentally, so were you.”

I gulped. I knew exactly where this was going. Hotch’s famous gaze was locked onto my eyes. “I left the bar with a seriously attractive man and we had a one-night-stand that turned into a friendship of sorts, but I only knew him as Dean. I knew nothing else, and we helped each other. His brother had left him and, well, Agent Colbert’s death was harder on me than I let on and he helped me through it.”

“You left the bar with a stranger?” JJ asked, incredulous, having entered the room while I was talking.

“I had half a bottle of Jack Daniels coursing through my system and I didn’t care, although I waited for that creeper vibe and I never got it. Honest to god.”


	5. Pizza Party

Chapter Four

            “So, you going to fire me or what?” I asked, not looking away from Hotch.

            “If I felt that you acted in any way unprofessionally and let this slight connection to Dean interfere with the interrogations, yes. However, I do not.” Hotch frowned. “But, next time, don’t go home with a random guy.”

            “Well it was either that or sleep with Reid.” I said. “And, I didn’t want Reid thinking there was anything other than me needing to get laid behind it.”

            “It explains why he opened up to you, though.” JJ handed something to Hotch. “This is from Henriksen.”

            He scanned the paper, his brow furrowing. “You can go, James.”

            I nodded and went back to my desk, working on reports. “Hungry?” Spencer asked, stopping by my desk at lunchtime. “We’re going to the cafeteria.”

            I followed my team into the elevator, Hotch, Garcia, and JJ included. As soon as the doors closed, Prentiss grinned at me. “So, how’d your first night with the Winchesters go?”

            “Um, I made spaghetti and we watched Star Wars until Sam went to sleep.” I said. “Dean made breakfast for us this morning and I told them to stay out of trouble.”

            “What’d he fix? Man, Will never fixes me breakfast.” JJ complained.

            “Scrambled eggs and bacon.”

            “If he gets out of Henriksen’s line of fire, keep him.” Rossi advised.

            I chuckled. “Maybe.”

            “Stacey, if you could’ve seen the look on his face when you walked in there the first time, you’d be getting hitched.” Morgan added. “And that whole ‘you’re the most beautiful woman in law enforcement’ thing, that was smooth.”

            “Obviously he hasn’t seen Emily, JJ, or Garcia.” I brushed aside the comment.

            “Aw, honey, you’re sweet.” Garcia hugged me when we got off the elevator.

            “Most guys don’t keep in touch with one night stands.” Prentiss pointed out.

            “They had a one night stand and he called her again?” Rossi whistled. “That must’ve been some night.”

            “He text me, not called.” I clarified. “And it was, for me at least.”

            We got our food and sat down at the table. “Must’ve been for you to remember him from three years back.” JJ said, teasing me. “It’s not like you have an eidetic memory too.”

            “Guys, come on. I didn’t actually think he’d keep in touch.” I took a bite of my burger.

            “Hotch, what are you going to tell Henriksen? If he finds out about Stacey’s connection to Dean, no matter how insignificant, that could jeopardize this whole case.” Reid said, getting us slightly off the topic, for which I was grateful.

            “He’s got a point.”

            “I’ll think of something, don’t worry. I am not risking my best agent just because she slept with a suspected serial killer.”

            “Yeah, let’s bring Dean to justice for those poor, unprotected Frosted Flakes.” I replied sarcastically.

            “I don’t get it.” Reid said over everyone’s laughing, which made everyone laugh harder.

            “You know, a play on words.” I said, calming down enough. “Serial for cereal.”

            “Oh. Clever.” He grinned at me.

            At five that afternoon, I was getting ready to leave when Hotch called us in the conference room. “In order to further prove we’re correct about their innocence, Anastasia, we are, as a team, coming over for dinner. I’ll bring pizza.”

            “Hotch, please, call me Stacey. I hate my full name.” I corrected him. “And bring a large pepperoni for me. Dean and Sam’ll eat whatever.”

            When I got back to my house, Sam and Dean were laughing at the TV, watching Ghostbusters. “Hey, darling.” Dean said, craning his neck to see me.

            “Look, the team’s coming over for pizza. They wanna get to know you better and make sure I’m not in any way endangering my life by having you two here.”

            “We’re probably endangering your food.” Sam pointed to the plates, one with only two Totino’s Pizza rolls on it and the other with a few small pieces of lettuce. “Sorry.”

            “It’s fine, really. Help me clean up.”

            Dean jumped up. “We got this. You go change.”

            I did as he told, changing into a pair of denim shorts and a Ramones tee, just as someone knocked on the door. I ran to it, seeing Morgan and Garcia there. “Come on in.”

            “Nice shirt. You listen to classic rock?” Dean asked, coming back in through the back door.

            “Best music ever.” I said, making sure I enough drinks.

            He stared at me, following me back into the living room. “Good god, you’re perfect.”

            “You must be Dean.” Garcia grinned at him. “I’m Penelope Garcia, goddess of all things technologically related.”

            “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He returned her grin. “Sup, dude?”

            “Not much.” Morgan turned the TV to the Avengers movie and both men sat down on the couch with me in between them.

            As soon as Hotch and Prentiss arrived, Sam came out of his room to join us. A few minutes later, JJ, Rossi, and Reid rounded out our group. Dean, having found a picture of my Mustang when it was just the frame, asked, “Who rebuilt your ‘stang?”

            “I did.”

            His mouth fell open. “You did? How?”

            “I got a manual and bought all the parts. The only thing I didn’t do is the paint job. I had help, of course, but I did most of it myself.” I sighed. “Dean, close your mouth.”

            Sam chuckled, getting two pieces of the Hawaiian pizza. “Dude, you need to marry her.”

            “Even Sam agrees with me.” Dean said, stealing one of my pepperonis off my pizza. “And you eat like a man. That is seriously hot.”

            Rossi laughed. “Is there anything you don’t like about her?”

            “She’s a fed. That’s not cool, but everything else makes up for it.”

            “Dean, do me a favor and shut up.”

            “Okay, darling.” I rolled my eyes and finished half my pizza, putting the box in the fridge for later. When I sat back down by him, he nudged me with his shoulder. “So, why don’t you like Henriksen?”

            Prentiss and Garcia shared looks of dismay; Morgan, Reid and Rossi went to the kitchen for a drink; only Hotch and JJ were watching me with as much interest as Dean. “He’s the reason my fiancé’s dead.” I said finally.

            “Oh.” He gave me a sympathetic smile. “I’m sorry.”

            “No, don’t be. It’s been three and a half years. I’m okay most of the time.”

            “What exactly happened?” He asked carefully.

            “Thomas and I were working a case under Henriksen. I was there as a profiler, since his men sucked at it. We went after the guy on his orders and the UNSUB ran Thomas through the stomach with a knife. I reacted, shooting the guy in the head, and Thomas died in my arms.”

            “No wonder you were downing the whiskey when we met.”

            “Like I said, I slept better drunk.” I sighed, taking a drink from his beer. “The worst part is Henriksen wrote me up for endangering my life along with Thomas’s.”

            “That son of a bitch.” Dean muttered.

            “You said it.” Morgan shook his head. “We thought we were going to lose her, either through the whiskey or her doing something to Henriksen.”

            “I’m glad you didn’t.” Dean said softly, looking at me as if he could see my soul.

            “If the Winchesters are serial killers, they’re the best liars we’ve ever dealt with.” Rossi stated. “I’d swear to their innocence in front of the Supreme Court. They’ve both seen horrible things, but they’re good men.”

            “Me too.” Hotch agreed. “I’m calling him the first thing in the morning, Anastasia.”

            “For the last time, boss man, it’s Stacey.”

            “Anastasia?” Dean’s face lit up. “Haha! Hello, Anastasia.”

            “I will smack those freckles off your face if you call me that again.”


	6. The Walking Dead

Chapter Five

            Henriksen showed up at work the next day, going straight to Hotch’s office. As there wasn’t any steam coming from his ears, I wondered what he was doing back. “He’s back early. I thought he gave us a week.” Prentiss frowned, moving her chair closer to my desk.

            “Ten bucks on Hotch.” Morgan joked.

            “I really, really, hate him.” I muttered, taking a drink from my coffee cup.

            JJ came out of her office and sat on Reid’s desk, watching with us. “Did his agents search Dean’s car?” Reid asked. “We let them take it when they were released.”

            “Yeah, they did. But the car was clean.” JJ answered.

            “James! My office!” Hotch barked, sticking his head out of the office door. My stomach twisted as I climbed the steps, standing as far away from Henriksen as I could get. “I need you to bring Dean and Sam in.”

            “Do you want them cuffed?”

            “No.” Henriksen’s first word to me shocked me. “I just need to ask them something.”

            “Okay then.” I grabbed my keys on the way to the elevator.

            When I got close to the door, I heard Dean yelling. “-know what it’s like, Sam! I have to deal with that and you and I’m this close to leaving!”

            “Maybe I would know what you went through if you’d open your damn mouth and talk to me for once! You don’t have to be the strong one anymore, Dean!”

            “SHUT UP!” I roared, making their heads turn toward me. “Hotch asked me to come get you two so get in the car and do not talk.” Dean opened his mouth to say something. “No. Car. Now.”

            Sam clenched his fists and followed Dean to my Mustang and I locked the door again, driving off. It was awkwardly silent as Sam silently fumed in the backseat and Dean was trying to think of something to say. With both of my hands on their arms, I dragged them inside to the elevator, and up to Hotch’s office.

Henriksen didn’t even look up as I shut the door. “No cuffs this time?” Dean asked sassily. “I’m hurt, Victor.”

“Are demons real?”

Sam’s jaw dropped; Hotch sat down in his chair rather hard; Dean just stared and I grabbed the back of the chair in front of Hotch’s desk to keep from falling down. “Depends. Did their eyes turn black and they have powers you didn’t think were possible?”

“How did you know?”

“It’s what I do.” Dean stopped. “Who is it?”

“One of my agents.” Henriksen’s face was slowly losing color. “But he’s dead and he wants me dead.”

Dean looked at me. “I need my car.”

I was staring at Henriksen. “Who is it?” My voice was surprisingly strong.

He didn’t meet my eyes. “Colbert.”

I handed Dean my keys and collapsed in the chair. “Is he in the building?” Henriksen nodded. “Son of a bitch. Come on Sammy, we got a demon to find.”

The two brothers left. I was panicking. “Hotch, please. I can’t stay here. Let me go home.” I pleaded, almost begging my boss.

“It’s safer here.”

“I don’t care!” I slammed my hands down on his desk. “My dead fiancé is wondering around this building. I need to leave.”

“You need to calm down.”

“You’d be hysterical if it was Haley a freaking demon was possessing!” It was a low blow, and I knew the minute he stood up, I’d gone too far.

“Go back to your desk, Agent. That is an order.”

I obeyed reluctantly, my nerves still on edge. “Everything alright?” Reid asked, concerned.

“I’m fine.” I lied as the elevator doors opened and Agent Thomas Colbert, still in the suit I’d buried him in, walked over to my desk, his eyes pitch-black.

He grinned that familiar, cocky smile, yet there was something darker behind it. “Hello, sweetheart.”

Reid was hyperventilating; Prentiss and Morgan were frozen; JJ was still in her office, going through case files. “You’re not Thomas.”

“I’m not?” The demon laughed. “You’re good, huh? Even better in bed, from what I’ve heard.” He tapped his head. “This dude may have been dead for almost four years, but the heart doesn’t forget.”

“Hey, douchebag!” Dean’s yell caught the demon’s attention. “Come at me, bro.”

Suddenly, the demon yanked me out of my seat. “If you want to kill me you’ll have to kill her, too, Winchester.”

Dean faltered for a second, but a gunshot rang out and the demon hissed, dropping my arm. Sam held a sawed-off in his hands, glaring at the demon. I couldn’t move, frozen between Dean and my dead fiancé. “Sam, conference room. Hurry.” Dean ordered, taking a knife out of his waistband. Sam hurried off, a can of spray paint in his hands. “Stacey, come here.”

“You let me die, Stacey. Are you going to do it again?” Thomas’s pleading voice kept me from moving.

Recognition dawned on Dean’s face. Everyone was backing away, too terrified to run for help. “It’s me you want, Colbert, not her.” Henriksen called, running down the stairs. “I sent you in there.”

“Stacey, please.” Dean pleaded, his eyes not leaving mine.

I started to take a step, but the demon grabbed me, holding me to his side. “Oh no, sweetheart. You’re not going anywhere. And as for you, Victor, there’s a special place in Hell for you.”

“Dean!” I was having trouble breathing and trying to get away from the demon.

“Shut up, bitch!”

Dean snarled and anger contorted his features into something I hoped to never see again. Even though he was purely terrifying, I was somehow able to calm down just a bit. “Release Agent James, demon.” Henriksen commanded.

“Or what? You’ll kill me again?” While they were talking, Dean had disappeared.

“No. But I will.” Dean hissed, stabbing the knife into the demon’s shoulder.

I fell to the floor, watching as Dean dragged it to the conference room. “Are you okay?” Henriksen helped me up.

“I’m fine.” I lied again, following Dean.

“Who sent you here, you black-eyed bitch?”

“Ah!” The demon screamed as he plunged the blade into his thigh. “L-Lilith!”

“Send him back, Sam.” Sam nodded, holding a leather bound journal in front of him. Dean shut the door to the conference room, standing in front of me. He pulled me into a hug and I broke down, crying into his shoulder.

My team soon crowded around us after Dean led me back to my desk, sitting on it with me in his lap. “Are you going to clear them, Henriksen?” Hotch asked, his voice slightly shaky.

“Do I have a choice?” He shot back. “I wasted three years tracking down demon killers.”

“Hunters.” Dean corrected. “And I tried to tell you but you were so cock-sure and wouldn’t listen.”

“What do we do with the body?” Sam asked, causing all heads to look at him. There was a trickle of blood coming from his nose before he wiped it.

“If you burn it, it can’t be possessed, right?” I asked, getting off Dean.

“Are you sure?” I nodded. “Trunk, Sam. We’ll burn it.”

I let out a shaky breath. “So, you guys skipping town now?”

Dean shrugged, his hands still on my hips. “If you’re ready to get rid of us, yeah.”

“Hotch, now can I go home?”

“Dean, make sure she doesn’t go back out to the bar.” Hotch said. “And, she doesn’t need to be driving in this condition. In fact, we’re all going home.”

Dean waited as I gathered my messenger bag up, slipping his arm around my waist. “Sam, follow us in Baby.” He tossed the Impala’s keys to his brother. “I’ll drive you home.”


	7. A Vacation...Of Sorts

Chapter Six

            A bottle of whiskey and a couple shots of rum later, Dean joined me in the living room. “Sam’s making sure we have everything we need and then, we’ll be gone.”

            “Awesome.” I hiccupped.

            He sighed. “I’m sorry. I never meant for any of this to happen, Stacey.”

            “At least you’re not wanted by the FBI anymore.”

            “Silver lining, huh?”

            I rested my head on his shoulder. “I don’t want to you to leave.”

            “I don’t want to either, but we have to. See, there’s this demon bitch, Lilith, and Sam’s got it in his head he’s the only who can kill her and prevent the Apocalypse.”

            “I take it you don’t believe him?”

            “Not really. He’s different than he was when I left and I don’t know why. So, I have to go to keep my pain in the ass little brother out of trouble.”

            “Well, can I cash in that rain check before you put Quantico in your rearview mirror?”

            He swooped me up in his arms, grinning. “Course you can, darling.” And, kissing me roughly, he carried me to my bedroom, shutting the door with his foot.

            We laid in bed afterward, my head on his chest and his arms around me. “I’ll miss you, Dean.”

            “I know. I’ll miss you too.”

            There was a short knock on the door. “Um, Stacey? Your boss is here.”

            I pulled on the first thing I could find- Dean’s gray t-shirt and my sleep shorts, and ran to the living room. “Hotch? What’s going on?”

            “Anastasia, you’re one of my best agents but, with everything that happened today, Strauss is placing you on suspension.”

            “What? She thinks I’m going to have a psychotic breakdown or something?”

            “I think you need a break, as well. You’ve been with us for eight years and, to this day, have only taken two sick days and no vacation days. I signed her request.”

            “How long, Hotch?”

            “For a month.”

            I heard the door open and Dean joined me. “I’m perfectly able to do my job. Go tell her I don’t want a break.”

            “If you refuse, I will fire you.” He warned. “Do not argue with me.”

            “Fine.” I crossed my arms, frowning up at my boss.

            “Have a good vacation. Trust me, you need it.” He nodded to Sam and Dean and then left.

            “No I don’t!” I called after him.

            “Did you just get fired?”

            “I’m on suspension because, apparently, our superior is afraid I’m going to go crazy.” I said sarcastically. “And I don’t take enough breaks.”

            “You still want to find twisted sons of bitches?” Dean asked.

            I looked over at him, seeing an idea forming in his head. “Yeah. It’s what I do.”

            “Come with us, then. We’ll bring you back in a month if you want to go back to profiling serial killers.”

            “Dean, she’ll get herself killed!” Sam exclaimed. “She doesn’t know how to do this like we do.”

            “I’ll show her the basics, Sam. What else am I supposed to do, leave her here and ask Castiel to check in every few days to make sure she’s okay?”

            “Yes. Dean, we tried this with Jo, taking someone who doesn’t know what the hell to do and she almost died, remember?”

            “Of course I remember! This is different. She hunts serial killers. It’ll be easier showing her the ropes.”

            “It’s only different because you want someone to sleep with all the time, right?”

            I stepped back, thinking Dean was going to punch Sam for that. He clenched his fists. “I actually like her, Sam. Excluding the fact that she’s a fed, she’s the one person I know I can trust, because right now, I don’t know if I can trust my own brother.”

            “Sam, look. I’m going to be bored out of my mind, worrying about my team when they’re sent on a case and I’m sitting on my ass here, not able to go. It’s just for a month and then, I’ll be back at the BAU.” I said, trying to ease the tension between the brothers. “How bad could having one more person for backup be?”

            “Deadly if they don’t know what to do.” He retorted.

            “Sam, shut up.” Dean’s fist twitched and he turned toward me. “Do you want to go and ditch Quantico for the month?”

            “I’ll go pack a bag.” I went to my room, leaving the door cracked.

            “It’s amazing how much you like her, considering letting her come with us is going to get her killed! Even if it doesn’t the demons just got more ammunition against you, Dean.”

            “She’s safer with us, Sam. At least if they decide to get to me using her or you, I have both of you with me.”

            “This is by far the stupidest thing you’ve done, next to making that damn demon deal for me.”

            “What was I supposed to do, leave you dead? And you know, as soon as we leave without her, there’s going to be a demon knocking at that door and Stacey won’t stand a chance.”

            “And you think she’s got a better chance with us? She’s going to slow us down. We need to find Lilith so I can stop the damn Apocalypse, or do you want the end of the world?”

            “Stacey’s going with me. If you have a problem with it, leave.”

            I dropped my duffel bag on the couch, sighing as Sam started toward the door. “Wait! Sam, please. Dean, you were miserable when you and Sam went your separate ways when I met you. Sam, honestly, all I want to do is stay away from Quantico for a while. I don’t plan on getting in the way. I’m just along for the ride.”

            He slowly turned back around. “Okay.”

            With that, I locked my door and threw my bag in the trunk of the Impala. I opened the passenger door on the driver’s side and slid in. Dean followed and a few minutes later, Quantico was behind us. He turned on Bon Jovi’s ‘Wanted, Dead or Alive’ as soon as the Impala passed the city limit sign. “Ready for greasy diner food and crack motels?” He joked, trying to ease the tension.

            I nodded, smiling at his lame joke. “Hotch was right. I do need a break from the job.”

            “Hell of a break.” Sam muttered.

            Dean and I ignored him. “Well, I can’t promise you much, but I can say you won’t see Quantico until your suspension’s over, darling.”

            I settled back, enjoying the smooth ride the Impala offered. I didn’t know much; I didn’t know if the mutual attraction between Dean and I would lead to more, I didn’t know where our next stop would be, where we’d be sleeping or eating, or what kind of creatures we’d run across, but I knew one thing. This was going to be interesting and I couldn’t wait to get started.


	8. After 'Swan Song'

Epilogue

            It was almost a year after they dropped me back off before I saw Dean again, although he was much better at keeping in touch this time around. I’d just came back from a long case, and was looking forward to unwinding with my Harry Potter movies and a glass of Scotch. After I made myself comfortable on my sofa and popped in the first movie, I heard a car pull up. My breath caught, thinking it was the familiar purr of the Impala, but as I was about to dismiss it as longing, there was a knock at the door. I crossed the living room, opening it. Dean stood there, tears rolling down his face and he smelled like a bar. He tried to smile when he saw me, but he failed. I moved, letting him in and locking the door back. “Dean, what’s wrong?” I asked, pulling him into a hug.

            He held me tightly. “Sam did it and h-he’s gone.”

            I maneuvered us to the couch, holding him while he cried, and rubbing his back. I had no idea what to say to a man who’d just saw his brother become the devil and sacrifice himself to end the freaking Apocalypse. I kissed the top of his head, my movie paused and forgotten about. “He told me to come back to you.” Dean finally spoke, looking at me. “I finally got him to admit you weren’t half-bad and he said to tell you hey and to take care of me.” There was a small smile.

            “Don’t worry, Dean. I will.”

            He nodded, still shaken and upset. I offered him my Scotch, but he denied. “I’m just going to go to sleep.”

            “Hey, my room’s open.” I said, watching him as he stumbled to my bedroom.

            I glanced toward the movie, placed it back in its case, and followed. He was almost out when I crawled under the covers with him, not objecting when his arm snaked out and he pulled me flush against his body. I rolled over, wrapping my arms around him as he drifted off into a restless sleep, probably plagued by nightmares.

            In the morning, when I woke, I untangled my limbs from his and slipped off to the bathroom for a quick shower. He was still asleep when I left, so I wrote a quick note and placed it on my pillow, kissing his forehead as I walked out.

            “Morning, Stacey.” Morgan waved as I strolled into the bullpen. “You look tired.”

            “Yeah, well, interesting night.”

            “Pick up another hunter?” Prentiss joked, sitting down in her desk.

            “Nope.” I sighed, realizing I’d forgotten my coffee. “Dean’s back.”

            Morgan waggled his eyebrows. “No wonder you’re tired.”

            “Shut up.” I retorted. “We didn’t do anything.”

            “Who didn’t?” JJ and Garcia, coming over for the usual morning gossip, asked curiously.

            Reid was already absorbed in his report for our last case and wasn’t listening. “Dean’s back and she said they didn’t do anything.” Morgan said, grinning at my expression.

            “If you guys want to hear every detail of my sex life, I’m sorry, but it’s not going to happen.”

            “Well, for something else gossip worthy, Hotch proposed last night.” Emily held out her hand, showing off the simple, golden diamond ring.

            “Pay up, Morgan.” JJ held out her hand triumphantly.

            He sighed, placing a fifty in her palm. “I thought he’d wait.”

            We all hugged her and then, it was time to work. By lunch, I was having trouble keeping my eyes open, but when Morgan slapped my arm, my eyes snapped open. “What?” I hissed, frowning at him.

            Dean was strolling toward my desk, looking slightly better than he did when he was on my doorstep. “Hey, darling. I Thought you could use this. Hazelnut cappuccino with three shots of expresso.” He handed me one of the Starbucks mugs in his hands.

            “Thank you.” I smiled gratefully at him, taking a long drink.

            “Mind if I join you for lunch?”

            “Nope.” I took my cappuccino over to walk with the team to the elevator. Somehow, Dean and I ended up in one alone. “How are you?”

            “Sucky as hell.” He said honestly, allowing me to exit the elevator first.

            We got in line behind Rossi, each buying a bacon cheeseburger and fries, and Dean bought a piece of cherry pie, following me over to our normal table. “Hey, Dean.” They greeted him, now at ease with the once suspected serial killer.

            “Hey guys.”

            Morgan sensed something was wrong, and he opened his mouth, but I shook my head. It was not the time or place for questions about Dean’s mental or emotional state. “Jayje, Em, Stace, we are going to have to have a girls night this week.” Garcia stated. “At my house. I’ll figure out a date later.”

            “Baby girl, are you kicking me out for a night?” Morgan asked, mock hurt in his voice.

            “Yup. You, chocolate thunder, are going to have to stay somewhere else for a night.”

            Dean choked on his burger. “Chocolate thunder?” He asked, looking slightly disgusted and intrigued.

            “Yeah. Garcia and Morgan are together.” I explained. “They have all sorts of pet nicknames for each other and one time, Emily and I started a drinking game based on them.”

            Emily grinned. “I don’t think I’ve ever been so wasted.”

            “Hands down the worst hangover I’ve ever had.” I agreed, laughing.

            Dean raised an eyebrow. “Even worse than that one the morning you had when you woke up next to a crazy serial killer?”

            The whole table cracked up, even Reid. “Definitely. I woke up alone that time, although, I vaguely remember kissing JJ and Will yelling at me.”

            JJ flushed. “Well, I remember and Will still teases me about that.”

            Dean shook his head. “Let me guess. Drunk karaoke to that lesbian pop song?”

            “I Kissed A Girl by Katy Perry?” I asked, grinning. “Yeah, I didn’t want to let the song down, you know, and JJ was closest.”

            “I would have never believed it.” He finished his burger, contemplating his pie. “Is it good?”

            “Almost as good as Anastasia’s.” Hotch said.

            “Hotch, seriously. How hard is it to call me Stacey?” Dean snickered beside me and I punched his leg. “Don’t even.”

            “Okay, okay, Anastasia.” The last word was muttered under his breath and I hit him again, harder that time.

            Hotch grinned. “So, you guys are coming, right?”

            “To what?” I was caught off-guard, seriously thinking of slapping Dean’s freckles off, but if annoying me was making him feel better, I decided against it.

            “Our wedding.” Prentiss remarked.

            “Oh, yeah. When?”

            “In a few months.” Hotch answered.

            Dean was busying making sweet mouth love to the pie, causing Garcia, Morgan, Rossi, and JJ to look at me, grinning like four perverted Cheshire Cats. Then, Dean held out his fork. “Here, try it.”

            I did, letting him put the small bite of pie in my mouth. “That is good.”

            He flashed me a smile before throwing his trash away. “See you later, Stace.” He kissed me sweetly and left.

            “He’s totally screwed up.” Morgan said, as soon as Dean was out of earshot.

            “Yeah, I know.” I sighed, finishing my coffee. “He was a lot worse last night, though.”

            “Is he okay?” Hotch asked, concerned.

            “His brother’s dead.” I said slowly. Sam, was, in all respect of normal, dead. “And Sam made Dean promise he’d come back to me right before.”

            “Holy shit.” Morgan let out a breath. “I hope he’ll be alright.”

            “It’ll just take time.” I answered. “Anyways, he doesn’t have to deal with this alone. That’s what I’m for.”

            It was then, when I realized, that somewhere between our one night stand four years ago and now, I’d fallen in love with Dean Winchester. The only thing going through my head was a simple but perfectly fitting John Green quote, “I fell in love like you fall asleep. Slowly, then all at once.”


End file.
